Strings of Renewal
by Downhearted-Stars
Summary: A sudden drain in energy one day results in Zarya owning a guitar of her own. Who would have known the adventures the Russian weightlifter would find herself going through is because of this stringed instrument? My first fanfic! Based off of my headcannon that Zarya knows how to play guitar. Zarya-focused fanfic. Series of one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

**Hoi!** **Welcome to my first fanfic! I have loved being part of this community as a guest for many years, but recently I thought it was time for me to join and add stories of my own. Thank you so much for you're time and interest in this story.**

 **Enjoy!(:**

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Ilios was a little town a few Overwatch members from time to time found themselves stationed in for a short period. Most of the time, it's to carry out the task of escorting a few payloads. Though Zarya was there for just that, she decided afterwords to stay a bit longer after completing their objective.

Since the recall for the services of Overwatch, the band of heroes has constantly been on their toes the past few months, with their numbers spread thin. The revival of Overwatch would never be a perfect reflection of its former glory thanks to the Petras Act. Regardless of the setbacks, their goal of maintaining peace on the world hasn't wavered in the slightest. Talon still remains as a constant threat, and though it seems like their eyes look towards achieving other goals - Talon has made it clear that they won't pass up the opportunity to eliminate any Overwatch agents.

All members of Overwatch are aware that returning or entering into this line of work wouldn't be easy. Every individual will face hardships and challenges when completing each objective. Along with that, it didn't take away from the fact that the expectations and demands Overwatch have will sap one's energy as time passed. The effects may not be immediate for some, but it was felt by all, one way or another.

It was that… weighted feeling of having the fate of the world almost heavily resting on their shoulders. A feeling that very well could be described as a burden, and most people are oblivious to the struggles and life-threatening battles they face every day. However, the heroes take on the task to fight these battles behind the scenes for the safety of the innocent.

Because they knew that if they didn't, then who will?

And today, one particular member was feeling that drain every agent goes through once a while.

As much as she enjoyed beating Talon soldiers' face into a pulp as the next Overwatch hero - Zarya's energy level one night was suddenly pulled out from under her.

It was then that she concluded that it was time to mix things up a bit for once.

Dressed in civilian clothing, Zarya leisurely walked through the idle streets of town, haphazardly humming to herself a quiet tune. It was early morning, and the first few rays of sunlight were beginning to peek over the horizon.

She wore baggy, dark green cargo pants, black combat boots, a sleeveless black hoodie with a navy blue t-shirt underneath, and a dark gray beanie that hides most of her distinct, cotton-candy hair. As for her scar around her right eye and her tattoos, it was well hidden thanks to Winston's holo-ring - which she was absentmindedly fiddled with.

When the small silver band was first presented and explained to Zarya, she recoiled as if she almost got burned - the edge of her lips curled downward, brows knitted closely together. Much to everyone's dismay, she refused to allow herself to hide her scar and tattoos. To her, it felt like it gave out a signal of shame of whom she was, and the accomplishments she made. Even so, it was soon revealed to the Overwatch agent that it was critical when going out into public eye. Aside from already being a whopping 6'5" tall, and her large, toned muscles bulging with every movement she made - the addition of her scar and tattoos made her a topic of conversation with those around her along with stares and pointing fingers. Conversation usually revolving around her previous career as a bodybuilder and weightlifting extraordinaire.

What used to be something Zarya once valued, fame slowly became an insignificant matter after the Second Omnic Crisis. Nonetheless, she will continue to please the occasional fan, whether it was by signing her autograph to taking a picture. Worn out of the fame she had at one time relished, and decided that the undercover work was more fitting for her.

The Russian grew to become thankful for the ring. She couldn't alter the fact of how tall or muscular she was, but it still greatly reduced the amount of attention she received. Most try to stay out of her way, and there were a handful that dared to ask her if she knew Aleksandra Zaryanova; but she simply raised a questioning brow, which the gesture alone signaled the end of the already brief conversation.

As Zarya continued to aimlessly wander down the streets of the now waking town, her eyes roamed through the many shop signs and a few displays of the open market - exhibiting their finest items. From various clothing to a wide variety of bakery goods, the Overwatch agent found herself particularly drawn more towards the small instrument shop that was located at the far end of the town.

She stopped right in front of the door, and proceeded to further observe the exterior of the shop.

Unlike the rest of the buildings around it, though they were all worn and showed signs of aging, the buildings around this one shop looked like they were kept under constant maintenance. This one in particular looked as if it hasn't been attended to in ages, at least, on the outside. The dusty peach paint was extensively peeling, the wooden sign had a hardly distinguishable painting of various instruments, and the door worn from continuous use - had an open sign dangling from a single, crooked nail. An old, shabby mat resided neatly in front of the door, with the words "Welcome!" barely legible and fading.

Hesitantly, Zarya slowly pushed open the door, cringing at the loud creaking noise originating from the rusty hinges. She had to slightly bend her knees to go through the door frame and peek inside due to how tall she was. Eyes widening, the Russian was taken aback from the interior of the store.

Though the shop looked rather small on the outside, the inside looked a lot bigger. It was spacious and tidy, with wooden shelves bolted into the walls. Most of which were holding a large assortment of instruments, while the rest was either leaned up against, or hung up, on the light blue walls. A good majority of the instruments were ones Zarya couldn't seem to recognize. Just as she thought she was going to lose interest, finding nothing to her liking, her eyes locked onto a single, acoustic guitar that was leaned against the opposite corner of the room.

Mid-step into her attempt to enter the residence to go towards the guitar, Zarya froze, realizing that she hasn't seen the owner of the shop yet.

The bodybuilder bit the inside of her lips in thought, contemplating her options. The owner may not be around, yet, the sign said they were open…She could just go in for a quick moment and look at the guitar… or could she possibly come back later? What if she needs to return to Overwatch: Gibralter for another mission and won't get a chance? What if someone buys it by the time she returns? She couldn't find any other guitars in the shop, and she assumed it was their last one. She itched to get a better look of the instrument, and possibly just strum the strings just once…

As she continued to weigh her choices, a hoarse voice cut through her train of thought.

"Are you looking for something in particular, ma'am?"

Zarya turned her head to the source of the sound, eyes landing on a gray-haired, thin-framed elderly man. He was most likely in his 60s, placing most of his weight on the wooden cane he held in his right hand. The man leaned forward with a slight hunch in his back, and if one were to look closely enough - you could almost see a slight trembling of his cane. The white shirt he wore was slightly too big for his scrawny build, along with a pair of tan shorts, and tan sandals. A small smile resided on his face, and though it didn't look like much - it emitted a kind, gentle nature to him.

The large Overwatch agent took a quick step inside as she slowly closed the door behind her - hinges giving off another whine. She looked at the aged man before averting her eyes towards the guitar, she lifted her left arm she proceeded to rub the back of her neck in slight embarrassment of getting caught. Using her unoccupied hand, it pointed towards the direction of the instrument she laid eyes on.

"Uhh, well… I was just taking a look at that beautiful guitar you have in that corner over there…" She replied almost sheepishly, pointing towards the instrument. He was quick to give a reply.

"Well then, what are you waiting for?" Gesturing his head towards the guitar, the smile not showing any signs of leaving any time soon. Zarya finally returned the smile with her own, exchanging a silent word of thanks - to which he understood, and responded with a curt nod.

The bodybuilder went up to the stringed instrument a little too quickly, and pulled up a wooden stool beside it to sit on. She slouched forward, with elbows propped up on her large quads, looking up and down the guitar - studying its every detail.

Though the body takes up a frame close to a common guitar, it was far from being described as one. The inlay on the finished, wooden body was an intricate design of swirls, floral designs, and waves all branching out from the right side of the guitar to the other. Though complex, the eye was able to flow through the design with ease - almost enticing you in a mesmerizing loop over the design over and over again. The fretboard, rosette, and the rib of the guitar was decorated with a beautiful pearl inlay design. The looks of the instrument were very appealing - but that was only half the battle.

Carefully picking up the guitar, she arranged it onto her lap as if she was about to play. It was slightly small compared to the large woman, but that didn't affect the smile that tugged the edge of her lips. She ran her fingers up the neck of the guitar - the sound of the strings was pleasing to the ear.

Running her thumb down the strings, a melodic ring resonated throughout the store. The smile grew even more, and Zarya went ahead to close her eyes - her mind attempted to call back on a few chords. Nevertheless, her fingers seemed to move on their own from muscle memory, and she began playing a string of chords together, creating a calming aura. One would think her fingers would be too big for the guitar as she set herself up to play, but the fact didn't seem to faze her nor effect her ability to play. She continued to preform with a fluid progression of chords, finger picking, and everything in-between without missing a beat. This went on for a good, solid 10 minutes of the Russian playing without stop. As she strummed the last chord, she sighed with immense satisfaction, muscles calm, and her whole being in tranquility.

"Please, take it."

Zarya snapped her head up to see the elderly man watching her with intense look of examination, hands rested on the top his cane, and atop that was his chin. She had neglected to notice his presence and realized that he was probably watching her the whole time.

Her gaze went back and forth between the guitar and the old man, momentarily lost for words. After a few seconds, she regained her bearings.

"How much for this guitar?"

He simply shook his head as he answered, "Won't cost you anything. It's yours."

Taken aback, Zarya was about to argue, but he had beaten her to it. "I've had people come up and eye the guitar for years. Some have done what you did - but never have I seen someone as tranquil and happy with it before." He paused, the familiar smile returned before he continued, "I never put a price on that guitar, because I was its previous owner - and I knew if I were to give it away, it would be to someone who would take very good care of it, and share it's beauty with others."

The Russian was speechless. She looked back at the guitar, then to the old man once again - who gave her an encouraging nod. Zarya carefully picked up the instrument once again, turning the guitar to where the front faced her - running her large fingers through the inlay design. She would have never thought she would own a guitar of her own - one so beautiful nonetheless.

Memories flooded back to her childhood days when she would always borrow another person's guitar - playing until the sun went down if she could. The focus on learning how to play put her young mind at ease, despite the post-war destruction she had witness growing up. She recalled how her parents did want the best for her, but affording a guitar at that time was next to impossible for the already struggling family. But for their little girl, they worked with what they had, and oftentimes was able to find others who would kindly lend their instrument for her to borrow. Playing the guitar was something she loved to spend most of her evenings doing before she became determined to help others.

She hasn't touched one since, due to many factors revolving around her weightlifting and bodybuilding career, and then the focus quickly shifting gears to the Second Omnic Crisis - that she was then willingly plunged herself into. Joining Overwatch soon followed, and the memory of her ever playing just slowly slipped her mind - until she stepped foot into this shop and setting her eyes on one for the first time in years.

Zarya knew that she had to repay this generous gesture - one way or another. Looking at the old man with a small smile, she replied, "Please, allow me to repay you somehow, even if it isn't through money. I cannot simply take this without giving you something in return."

His brows furrowed together, lips tighten to a thin line, and deep thought etched into his aged features. After a moment, a look of realization dawned upon him, and looked to her with yet another smile before replying to her request. Zarya had to admit - she was growing partial to his smile.

"I have seen you around town once in a while, so whenever you have a chance to stop by again, do you mind helping me fix up the outside of the shop? I'm sure you've seen how… unappealing it is."

The tug on the edge of her lips grew more, "You got it."

Before she could add on, she felt her communicator buzz within the pocket of her cargo pants. Mumbling an apology, she quickly set aside the guitar along the wall before she fished out the round device. Flipping the top of the communicator revealed a familiar face on the screen.

It was Pharah.

"Where are you?" The audio buzzed before the static in the background cleared itself up, "You're needed for another payload escort in a couple hours."

The Russian Overwatch agent shrugged - with an informal-tone to her voice she replied, "I'm still in Ilios, but I'll head over to your position when I can." Though they were members of an elite task force, Zarya knew she was talking to more than just a teammate, but a good friend.

Pharah nodded her head in, before she cocked her head to the side, looking past Zarya, "Are those… instruments?"

Zarya casually brushed off the question with a dismissive wave of her hand, and grinned almost mischievously, "Yes, but it doesn't matter. I'm heading over right now." She'd rather not explain herself at the moment - save it for another time.

Before the Egyptian got a chance to reply, Zarya cut off the connection and shoved the communicator back into her pocket. She looked up to the shop owner, who's smile hasn't seem to have left his face. His eyes glanced from the communicator in her pocket, and back to Zarya.

"Looks like you best be going."

Zarya stood up, guitar gripped tightly in her hand, and replied with a warmhearted, "Seems so." She quickly made her way for the door and came to a halt. Her dark brown eyes shifted from the door to the guitar before looking back at the elderly man. She lifted her new guitar up for him to see, and large grin appeared on her rejuvenated face.

"Thank you."

She was out the door before he got the chance to say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

A deep grunt followed by the sounds of clanking metal could be heard echoing through the halls of Overwatch: Gibralter. Over time, the noise could be mistaken as a tape being looped over and over again. However, that wasn't the case here.

It was late into the evening, and most of the stationed agents have resided into their rooms. One particular Overwatch agent was occupying herself with her usual weightlifting workout. Beaded sweat ran down her face as she concentrated on each bench press rep - strands of her pink hair clung to her forehead. She inhaled as the bar lowered, and exhaled as she forced the bar back up towards the ceiling - scrunching her face with signs of great effort being put into each exertion.

This cycle continued for another 20 minutes, with a few breaks in-between. Arms slightly trembling from exhaustion, Zarya racked up the bar. Carefully, she raised herself upright, and swung her legs over the edge of the bench. Resting her elbows on her knees, she stared at the black, padded ground as she focused on steadying her breathing. She slowly reached for her water bottle, flipped the cap and took a large gulp of ice-cold water, sending a chilling sensation down her parched throat. Getting up, the large Overwatch agent raised her muscular arms over her head and performed a few stretches. Satisfying cracks emitted off her joints, and soon relaxed, releasing a long, content sigh.

She knew she probably should be asleep with the rest of the agents, but for some reason - sleep didn't come to her tonight. After a few failed attempts, she abandoned the idea of sleep for a while, and decided to go weightlifting instead in hopes of tiring herself out.

Unfortunately for her, after almost two hours, Zarya still felt wide awake.

Her subconscious ran with activity that was beyond her, and she was strapped in for the ride. Letting out a frustrated growl, she grabbed her white towel, and wiped the sweat off of her face with one, fluid motion. She proceeded to throwing the towel over her shoulder, and began cleaning up the weight room. She slid off the safety clips, relishing the sound of the clips zipping off. She then went ahead with preforming the task of racking the weights and sanitizing the machines. After a few minutes - she clicked the lights off as she proceeded to her room.

Opening the door, light flooded into the dimly lit chambers. Plain, gray walls decorated each side - with a bed and a small wooden nightstand resided in the left, back corner of the room. Beside her bed, the wall contained many pictures, posters and newspaper clippings of her previous career leading up to the weightlifting and bodybuilding world championships. On the nightstand was a small, simple electric lamp and a black digital clock that currently flashed in red: 2:35 AM.

Her sheets were sprawled across the bed, with some managing to touch the floor. Meanwhile, the duffle bag she carried with her during her travels was open, clothes sprayed out as if the contents exploded out. On the opposed side of the room was a wooden corner desk that was home to a black laptop, and a worn, gray swivel chair. There, a different set of pictures adorned that wall: they consisted of recent pictures with her teammates; they ranged from her and Reinhardt's arm wrestling contest as they were surrounded by other cheering teammates, to a picture of Fareeha bench pressing with Zarya yelling encouragement in the background - a wide grin was captured spread across her face.

A simple body mirror leaned onto the wall next to the desk with a small stack of various dumbbells, and a door that lead to a simple full bathroom. Finally, a wooden drawer holding some of her trophies and medals stood firm against the same wall as the door the weightlifter entered through.

Tossing her small white towel in a random corner of her room to act as a "dirty clothes" pile, the pink-haired Overwatch agent decided on taking a shower before making another attempt to go to sleep. She stepped inside her bathroom and proceeded to preparing herself before entering the shower. Grabbing one of the neatly folded towel from the shelf, she hung it beside her pink bath robe.

Zarya soon found herself in quiet tranquility as the shower pelted her with a steady stream of hot water. The sound quickly became white noise as she relished the moment. A small smile formed upon her lips, feeling her muscles slowly relax. She washed herself up before stepping out of the shower and drying herself off. She slipped into her bath robe that hung on a nearby hook, and open the door.

Steam rolled out of the bathroom as the large Russian woman stepped out - a chill running down her spine as cool air nipped at her bare skin. Quickly, she decided on her nightwear: a dark blue t-shirt with the Overwatch logo embroidered onto the top corner, and a pair of black sweats. She glanced at the clock, reading 3:15AM. The pink-haired Overwatch agent merely shrugged to herself at the time spent in the shower. Usually, Zarya would be in and out of the shower at a quick pace, but if given the opportunity to take a long shower, she'll take it.

Allowing her eyes to scan over the contents in her room, her gaze ended up landing upon the guitar she revived - idly leaned up against her wooden drawer.

The gift she had gotten from that old man in Ilios.

She realized soon after leaving the small town that she had forgotten to ask for his name. Guilt instantly swelled up within her being. She scold herself for it - and concluded that she will get to know his name when she finds herself stationed in the small town once again.

Without any second thought, she walked up to the instrument, picked it up by it's wooden neck, and took it with her as she sat on the edge of her bed - one leg crossed and tucked under the other, which was planted onto the ground to keep her steady. For a few moments, Zarya simply sat there, eyeing every feature of the guitar for what seems like the billionth time. No matter how many times she's looked at it, the detail never cease to amaze her.

Her fingers began strumming each string, tuning the instrument by ear. She knew that it won't be perfectly tuned, but she could recall each pitch well enough to get her by. Once it was to her liking, she then proceeded to play.

Just like her experience back at the small instrument store, the Russian Overwatch agent played to her heart's content - finding satisfaction with each strum and change of cord with the swift motion of her fingers. The pink-haired agent allowed her eyes to fall shut, losing herself into the music - smiling with great joy at the calming sensation it brought to her whole being.

A soft knock echoed from the door, followed by a questioning, "Zarya?"

Flinching, the one in question instantly stopped playing, and looked up at the digital clock. 4:30AM. How had she lost track of time? She could have sworn that it was only a few minutes that she was playing! Her eyes flickered down to the guitar.

Another set of knocks. "Ich entschuldige mich…" Came the voice once again, pausing before continuing, "I heard some music coming from your room. I-"

They were unable to finish their sentence when the door was promptly opened. Zarya's eyes locked onto a pair of deep blue eyes.

It was Angela Ziegler.

The Swiss doctor wore a crisp, clean, medical lab coat over a black collared shirt; with the rest of her outfit consisting of gray dress pants and a pair of black flats. Cocking her head slightly, Zarya rose a questioning eyebrow, prompting the Overwatch medic to explain herself.

Understanding the gesture, the blond cleared her throat before responding, "I was just coming back from my office to head towards my quarters, and I couldn't help but overhear the music playing from your chambers."

The bodybuilder averted her eyes, suddenly finding the minuscule cracks within the walls more interesting. "Well…" She subconsciously pulled her arm back to rub her neck, before continuing, "It's just some music that I got while I was stationed at Ilios… I guess I was playing it a bit too loud." A nervous chuckle escaped her lips, laced with an apologetic tone.

 _'_ _At least it wasn't a complete lie.'_

Now, if confronted by any other person, they would have been convinced. However, this was Angela Ziegler, and she can immediately tell when something was off. When you dedicate your life into a field that involves constant face-to-face interactions, you can pick up a thing or two when it came to body language. Eyes narrowed in suspicion, but the Overwatch medic decided against further interrogation, and allowed it to slide. At least, for now.

"Alright… I best be going," There was brief pause as the medic look down the hallway, before making eye contact with the Russian. A smile forming on her lips, "and I do hope you share more of this music with me sometime. I am very intrigued."

"Will do." Zarya secretly hoped she wouldn't remember.

Satisfied that the conversation was now over, Angela turned on her heels to head down the hallway. Zarya watched as Swiss doctor disappeared into her own room a few doors down, a distinct click resonating through the hallway as the door closed.

The bodybuilder then went ahead and closed the door behind her, throwing herself onto her bed face-first with a grunt - head buried deep into her pillow. She allowed herself to remain in that position for a few moments, before turning her head. She stared straight at the guitar as it was propped up against her nightstand.

 _'_ _That… was a close call.'_

The Russian bodybuilder didn't want any of her teammates to know about her guitar quite yet. For some reason, a part of her felt a bit embarrassed about her ability to play. Other than Lúcio's DJ'ing abilities, she wasn't aware of any other agents that played an instrument of any kind. Plus, she wanted to relish the time she had of not being swarmed by other Overwatch agents every time they heard her play. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone found out. Until then, she decided on played the stringed instrument only when she was within the sanctuary of her room.

Lying on her bed, she could feel her eyelids suddenly becoming heavy. Fatigue had finally caught up to the pink-haired agent, and allowed herself to drift in to sleep.

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 **A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I've been busy lately with shtuff haha.  
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I won't make any promises on when the next one will be up, I don't want to raise any false hope.**

 **"Ich entschuldige mich…" = "My apologies..." (German)**

 **To those who kindly sent in a review:  
Shadowjonathan: Ahaha, wrong genre indeed - though that would be interesting idea! I'm glad you like!(:**

 **Whitesaber: Awh thanks! A cup of coffee as you read is always a good!**

 **theredtapir: Thank you! I hope to find a writing style I'm comfortable with as I continue to write. Maybe condense it a tad, but keeping that descriptive nature to it.**

 **Till next time!(:**


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